I went to India in 2005 on a dignitary detail. A Capitol Police Officer who had done the detail in the past advised me to go to a thrift store and buy a bunch of khakis and polo shirts. He said by the end of the day my clothes would be caked in sweat and I should just peel them off and throw them away as it wouldn’t be anything I’d want in my luggage.
I followed the advice and it worked out well. Until one of the last days. I was in my hotel room in Delhi when I got a package delivered. 
WTF? Who the hell knows I’m in India?
I opened the box and like a punch in the face!:eek: The hotel we were in in Mumbai tracked me down and mailed me the clothes I had thrown in the garbage can in my room there before checking out. Blech! {Stereotypical Indian accent} “We could not believe anyone would throw away such fine clothing. So we mailed them to your next stop on your trip”.
Probably karma for the weirdest thing I ever mailed: fecal matter, urine, and 2 hard boiled eggs in a jar. Mailed it to a teacher I absolutely loathed when I was in the 8th grade. I painted the outside of the jar so she couldn’t see what was in it. I heard that after she opened it the stench putrefied her entire house.
I believe it’s the only way to breed French Bulldogs.